some time ago i was downtown at one of my favorite local thrifts, walking without hurry through each aisle filled with so much unwanted tchotchke looking for some hidden treasure when i spotted this little kewpie. she was just sitting there on the shelf between some paperback books and salt and pepper shakers. i grabbed her and brought her home for my bride.
she looked at it with askance and then asked "what am i supposed to do with that?" dismayed, i answered "it's a kewpie. you set it on a shelf and look at it." "huh. i don't want any more junk in the house." "junk! junk? it's a kewpie. you know, like from old timey, like you're my girl and i took you out to the fair or carnival. we walked along the midway until we came to this little booth. i picked up a baseball, 3 for a dollar and knocked the milk bottles over and this is what they gave me. and i gave it to you."
"yeah, but you didn't do any of that." "that's not the point. it's what it represents. it's a kewpie." well the little doll sat on her dresser for a day or two and then it mysteriously disappeared. so mysteriously i hadn't noticed it. and then, just the other day while in the garage i was moving some stuff and there in a metal tray with a lot of my other crappola was this poor little lost doll. i thought i had saved her from the fate of the local thrift, and instead she has been consigned to the dark realms of storage. don't that beat all?
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